


Anders, you son of a...

by wookieeTHEcookie



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:56:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4134870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wookieeTHEcookie/pseuds/wookieeTHEcookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was my prompt assigned from The Fellowship of the Cullenites Writers. The prompt was "Anders at Skyhold." A very open ended prompt. It will be at least a 3 chapter story, this is just a start. I hope I do Anders-*lowers sunglasses*-Justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anders, you son of a...

"You son of a bitch."

Almost exactly the words he expected when she finally found him, though the blow after wasn't altogether anticipated. He woke, arms bound behind him, feet tied and some sort of fabric stuffed in his mouth. None of which would be that bad in a different context. But no, this was capture. At least it wasn't the Templars this time. 

"There you are," Hawke said, looking back from her seat. Her glare was cold, and the way her lips wrinkled showed just a taste of the contempt she felt. Anders blinked, bringing the world into a little more focus. He tried to sit up, but even the thought of it made him feel sick to his stomach. If his headache wasn't at fault, then the rocking of whatever he was in was to blame. What was this? A carriage? A boat? Whatever it was made him utterly seasick. If he didn't love that woman, he'd hate her for this. She knew how he felt about things that move and swayed and tossed your insides around.  "You and I are taking a little trip," she continued smugly. Anders struggled against his bindings, trying to speak through the cloth strapped between his teeth. Hawked showed slight mercy and reached to remove the piece that would at least allow him to talk.  

"Justice isn't going to like this," he gasped, his breath exerted from the struggle.  

"Justice can kiss my ass," she shrugged, a nonchalance in her tone. "You both must have known I'd find you eventually."

"Did it ever occur to you I might've gone willingly?" he asked.

Hawke's head titled in thought. "No, it didn't. Would you have?" 

"That's beside the point. You didn't even try asking," he squeaked. 

She laughed. "Oh Anders, when have you ever known me to ask questions first?"

"Well, there might have been the once. Where are you taking me anyway?" he asked. 

"You'll see. I've got someone who is just dying to meet you. She's going to help me get that thing out of you," Hawke answered.

"Sweetie, we've been over this before. I'm afraid I'm a lost cause," he sighed. 

"I told you I wouldn't give up on you, Anders. I keep my promises."

* * *

The ship struck land nearly at midnight. Anders supposed they'd planned it this way. They wouldn't want him to be seen, and darkness was always the best cover. They spared him a gag this time, but a sack had been tied over his head in its place. His feet were freed now as well, no more of this being dragged along or carried. The creaking of wood and a slam meant the boat's ramp had been lowered. He wondered where they could have ported, what city would allow them to travel through with such a fugitive. Whoever held his reigns pulled him by the rope at his wrists, his bindings made of a thread even Justice could not break. He felt the ground slant beneath him and could hear his steps change from wooden thumping to stone now. He was stopped a moment later and forced to his knees. And then he heard a new, but entirely familiar voice.

"We'll keep him in the cellar tonight and post guards. Let you all get cleaned up and get some sleep." The voice was Cousland's. He'd recognize her anywhere, even after almost 10 years. Does this mean they were at Vigil's Keep?

"I'd rather keep him with me if it's all the same to you. I'm sure you can tell he needs a long bath, a good shave if he lets me," Hawke replied. "It'll make the trip easier on all of us if he doesn't stink like the ass end of a nug." 

"I'd call it dog shit and unwashed beard. Smells the same as the rest of Fereldan. We could hose him off in the dog kennels if you like," he heard Cousland suggest.  

He finally decided to speak up for himself. "Very funny," he said muffled through the cloth over his mouth. 

He felt a tug at his throat and the ropes loosened. Someone lifted the sack from his face and he found himself stared at by his former Commander. 

She glared standing over him, shaking her head. "Anders, you son of a bitch," she said gritting her teeth. 

He winced, expecting another swing to follow the statement as it had before, but Cousland only sighed. Her face was angry, but her eyes were sad. After a few moments he couldn't bear to look at her anymore and lowered his head, the disappointment was too much. He heard her take a deep breath and she spoke more softly this time. "Well... I'm just glad you're alright."

Two armored men approached and each took a side at his flanks. He expected Wardens, but these were just ordinary guards. Maybe they weren't in Amaranthine.

"Who are they?" Anders asked, nodding toward the soldiers.

"They're my brother's men," Cousland replied. "They'll be keeping an extra eye on you. Just in case."  

He looked around, trying to place their location. Her brother was the Teryn of Highever, and Highever was on the coast. That must be where they'd landed. Cousland looked to the guards and nodded. The next instance Anders had been forced to his feet.

"Careful with the goods," Hawke snapped, jumping to his defense and thumping the left guard hard in the chest. He could see the familiar burn behind her eyes, the one that said someone's ass was about to be barbecued if they crossed her. He'd been the recipient of that look more times than he cared to remember. Cousland stood back and watched the scene with a smirk. His torture was amusing to her, wasn't it? 

The guard cleared his throat nervously. "Sorry, miss."

Hawke turned to Cousland, hands firmly at her hips. "Is this really necessary?"

She stuck out her chin confidently and crossed her arms. "Until we leave Highever, yes."

"We? You're coming too?" he asked in a panic. Hawke was hot headed enough on her own, but he'd suffered the wrath of Cousland's temper before too. The combination of both women to contend with was frightening. "That's just bloody brilliant."

"Why do you think you're here? I'm only one who knew you two separately," said Cousland. 

"No one's even told me where I'm going."

"You haven't told him?" Cousland asked, brows raised arching high over her eyes. She turned to Anders. "We're taking you to the Inquisition." 

* * *

 

The trip felt like it took weeks. Maybe it did. When you spent half your time with your eyes covered or being tucked away in hidden wagon compartments, the days sort of just blended together. Sometimes they traveled during the day, sometimes under the cover of night. It was hard to tell which day was which. But then it started to get cold. Very cold. Worse than Fereldan cold. They didn't pass through any more villages either and then they had to abandon the wagon and stick to horseback. Horseback meant a covered face, but at least it brought some warmth. Their horses stopped and a heavy set of feet could be heard.   

"That's him?" he heard a man say. The voice wasn't foreign, but he couldn't place its owner. "I still think the Inquisitor is insane for letting this monster walk through our gates." 

"Commander, he wasn't always a monster. We're here to get the real monster out of him," Cousland replied.

"Brilliant, you're all still talking about me like I'm not here," Anders complained.

"Don't mind him," Hawke said shrugging. "By the way, do you mind if I take off the hood. Might shut him up."

The Commander sighed. "Go ahead."

Anders blinked, adjusting his eyes to light. What crunched under the horse's feet was indeed snow. They were in mountains, standing at the edge of gate that lead down a very long bridge and to a high perched castle. And then he focused on the man. 

"Knight-Captain Cullen?" Anders yelped. He started to struggle. "Ok, that's it, I'm out."

"You're staying right here," Hawke said tightening her grip on his ropes. Cullen rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Cousland. 

"Does the King know this is why you're here?" Cullen continued.

"What do you think?" Cousland asked sarcastically.  

"I think he's going to have all of our hides if he finds out we let you get involved. You should have left this up to Hawke."   

"I told her that, but you've dealt with her before. You know how stubborn she is," Hawke gibed. "She definitely uses that title of hers to her advantage."

"Being married to a King does have its perks," Cousland said smugly.

"Well trust me when I say being married to the leader of the Inquisition has none. It just curses you with worry and frustration," Commander Cullen sighed.

Cousland chuckled. "Commander, I'm afraid to tell you that comes along with any marriage. If you think you're blighted with worry now, just wait until you have children."

"Speaking of Blighted, why do Justice and I not sense any in you Commander Cousland," Anders spoke up again.   

"Oh well, that...I got rid of it. If you behanve we can get rid of yours too. Powerful thing, blood magic," Cousland said. 

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Cullen groaned.

"Did you just admit to participating in blood magic in front of a Templar?" Anders said.

"Anders...there are no Templars anymore," Hawke said slowly.

"You saw to that, didn't you mage?" Cullen said bitterly.

Cousland quickly changed the subject. "Well, as much as we're all enjoying this chat, I think it's time we presented Anders to the Inquisitor."  

 


End file.
